Homecoming Day

These lyrics tell about the ritual that happens across the US this time of year in high schools and colleges to commemorate football and community. They also hint at the dark side of community. I wrote this years ago, but in this #MeToo climate, others might find themselves in this song:

1. Chicken wire and crepe paper
wrapped around a hayrack
towed behind a pickup
in the Homecoming parade
In a town as small as this one
maybe smaller but that was
too long ago
my distant past
my childhood a charade

Chorus (2x):
I had a dream last night
you turned around and asked me why
I wasn’t coming home again
I couldn’t tell you

2. Traps set in the corners
of the hallways of the high school
memories like serpents
poised and ready there to spring
tried to do my best to be invisible
but that was impossible
a waste of time
a waste of everything

Chorus (2x)

3. Tried to tell the people
with their eyes glued to the TV sets
to look at something else
outside the color of their hate
I was just a child then but I wasn’t
but that was ’cause
I couldn’t be
it wasn’t fair
you can’t go back and change my fate

Chorus 2x

I couldn’t tell you

Homecoming Day

This is a song I wrote about 20 years ago; I can’t write music; I just sing the tune. This was written years after “Empty Gym” but about the same incident, and it is written from the point of view of an older person to an innocent high schooler who doesn’t know how bad things can get:

#1
Chicken wire and crepe paper
wrapped around a hayrack
towed behind a pickup
in the Homecoming parade
in a town as small as this one,
maybe smaller,
but that was so long ago,
my distant past,
my childhood a charade

Chorus: (2x)
I had a dream last night
you turned around and asked me why
I wasn’t coming home again —
I couldn’t tell you.

#2
Traps set in the corners
of the hallway in the high school
Memories like tigers
crouched and ready there to spring
Always tried my best to be invisible
but that was impossible —
a waste of time,
a waste of everything

Chorus

#3
Tried to tell the people
with their eyes glued to the TV set
to look at something else
outside the color of their hate
I was just a child then,
but I wasn’t —
I couldn’t be —
you can’t go back and change my fate.

Chorus and fade…

Me Too

My books were in the empty gym.
I had to retrieve them —
I couldn’t just leave them.
I slid back the door.
The sound of dark and silent
sang back to me,
and chilled me to the core.
I asked the darkness
if anyone was home;
there was no answer save the echoes.
I wanted to shout,
let my voice ring above the rafters
in mighty trumpet tones!
I grabbed my books and scuttled out,
alone.

********
I wrote this my freshman year in high school; a year after an event that left a hole in my memory for ten years. This poem is about the hole in my memory, and about PTSD.